


Lady in Lace and Leather

by eyemeohmy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M, Mild Language, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:04:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BBC Sherlock. Jim is dressed up in a corset with garter belt and stockings. It’s for a case. Sebastian’s mind is full of millions of particles of little fucks. Seb/Jim</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lady in Lace and Leather

**Author's Note:**

> I think it’s just required that at some point, all my Jim fics have crossdressing. I think that’s my favorite Jim of all. Crossdresser Jim. Just… Jim wearing sexy girl clothes all the time, and I’m golden. Lord. Please excuse any errors of any sort; wrote this late, proofread it (twice) even later and I am sleepy.
> 
> Anyway, disclaimer: I own none of these chucklefucks.

# Lady in Lace and Leather

It had been late that evening when Sebastian was suddenly called to run an important errand - Jim needed to see him urgently. At his own flat, even. Sebastian was the only one who knew its whereabouts and was ever invited, whereas his lackey colleagues knew nothing. If they had been called to Jim's flat - which was some sort of damn oxymoron, a simplistic _palace_ \- they'd register the invite as a death threat. Sebastian - nah; the first time he had been summoned to the Master's Lair, he was a little apprehensive, but it was all business and he left alive with four limbs just as he came.

There was something suspicious about Jim's short, curt message, however. Usually they all were, especially when they were emergencies. The less information, the better; they couldn't risk any possible exposure. Still, this one seemed... odd, somehow. Mostly because the second half of the text included: "Also - bring milk. Two percent. - JM"

Sebastian went to the grocery store and for a while, stared at the freezer stock of milk, his reflection pale in the glass door. Wondered, now, if Jim used 'milk' for some code. Why, though? He never used 'milk' in code before. Maybe he had told Sebastian, but he wasn't listening; he had his moments where Jim's droning and rambling forced him to tune his boss out and stare contentedly into nothingness. Sebastian thread a hand through his hair; shit. Shit shit shit. If 'milk' was code for something, and Jim had told him, and he hadn't been listening... Jim would scalp him. Would rip the hair and skin right off his head. Shit.

A woman was hovering pensively nearby. She was torn between walking slowly away from the worried, fretting man who smelled like tobacco and brandy and maybe gun smoke?, or politely, and fearfully, asking him to step aside so she could get her milk. Sebastian cast her a look that usually came off as cold to strangers when he finally noticed her, and she nearly jumped, a sweet little brunette girl with her hair tied back in a loose ponytail. He... recognized her from somewhere, and yet... Sebastian turned and picked a jug of two percent milk from the fridge, headed to check out.

Code or not, he was going to bring milk. Praying it was the latter. Though the idea he was sent out to buy Jim milk irritated him. Really, was he _that_ busy? If Sebastian recalled, there was a small convenience store just adjacent of his flat. Noo, noo; Jimmy boy was too good for the convenience store. Couldn't buy his own damn milk, had to send one of his henchman and you know, the more Sebastian thought about it, the more he actually hoped it was code and the idea he would get his ass kicked for forgetting the code seemed a lot better than driving nearly across town to deliver _fucking milk_.

Sebastian headed upstairs, took the elevator, feeling like some wife returning home with groceries. Stared into the security camera, plastic bag swinging idly at his side. The doors opened and he headed down the long corridor - like some pathway to an execution room - leading to Jim's flat. Knocked on the door, and heard the familiar hum of a small ceiling mounted camera above him. 

"S'me," Sebastian said and stared blandly at the nearly concealed device. Its tiny, barely visible red eye winked and a second later, the sound of four locks clicking and clanking open followed.

Sebastian waited. As if the door would suddenly split apart, reveal another door, then another, a steel one this time, which would reconfigure, reveal a force-field of electricity, which would then zap off and he'd finally be allowed inside. Rather, he took the knob, turned it and opened the door. No bullet wedged itself into his skull and so, feeling comfortable again, he set one foot inside and said, simply, "Brought you your 'mil--'"

Sebastian choked on his words. His fingers loosened around the bag's straps. Eyes widened, mouth slightly agape.

The underbust corset was made of pure leather from a new up and coming corsetière of stylish taste and expensive pricing. Ink black, with soft highlights of scarlet climbing along the boning. It hung loosely by a few tied lace ribbons. The garter belt matched the corset, of course, same leather material and color; its straps locked to the thigh-high ruby stockings clinging tightly around his legs with just a hint of transparency. McQueen - of course, the shoes had to be McQueen. Thick heels, platforms, pretty pretty red with obsidian crossbones and skull over the buckles.

Jim wore all these, appearing so casual and relaxed. He turned from the vanity mirror and gestured Sebastian inside. "Don't let the flies in," he tsked. The bag dropped. The milk rolled out on the floor. Sebastian was frozen in place, and time, and all coherent thinking. Jim grit his teeth and said, "You are lucky that didn't spill. If you ruined my Persian rug, your hide would have replaced it."

Sebastian blinked a total of five times in a row. He swore his jaw almost creaked like rusted metal as he closed his mouth, opened, closed it again. He shuffled nervously inside, slowly pushing the door closed. It locked automatically, bolting and clicking. "... I," Sebastian's throat felt like a desert, and the cogs in his brain were slowly turning, "... brought your milk."

"The clock is a little off tonight, I see," Jim snorted. He made a gesture with his hand, like knocking back a bottle.

"No," Sebastian said quickly. Still looking a little shocked. "I haven't had... any. Not since yesterday."

Jim shrugged. "Go put the milk away," he ordered, "and then we'll talk about why you're here." He then turned back in his seat, and Sebastian found himself staring at the bare flesh of his back between corset and garter belt. Jim looked up and at Sebastian in the mirror. "Hey." He snapped his fingers and Sebastian's eyes flew up. Same snapped fingers pointed to the kitchen area nearby.

Sebastian bobbed his head. He picked up the milk and headed for the fridge. Taking every other moment to glance back at Jim. Expecting him to be an hallucination of some sort. Cursed when he closed the refrigerator door on his fingers. Jim was fussing with instruments - make-up, Sebastian's mind exploded - humming something extremely pop-ish.

Sebastian moved back to his boss's side. Cleared his throat against his fist. Jim put down an unopened tube of lipstick - it did not look cheap and the idea of his boss actually spending more than a couple bucks on make-up, oh _God_ did his brain hurt. "Right," Jim said and sat upright, "there is the slightest chance that you are possibly, maybe wondering why I'm dressed up like this."

Playful joking, but Sebastian didn't react. Jim continued with a small huff: "It's for a case."

"A case?" Sebastian echoed. "What sort of case?"

"A veeeeery special one, if my outfit hasn't made that clear."

Sebastian frowned. "Does it involve street corners?"

"Heavens no." Jim waved a hand at him. Were his nails glossy? Did he just paint them? "If I needed the extra funding, I would have you working on the corner for me." He winked. "You have such a nice, pert little ass. All the old codgers would be left drooling." He reached out and smacked Sebastian's rear, finally getting a slight rise out of him.

"Are you going to tell me exactly what this 'case' entails?" Sebastian demanded. "Or leave me in the dark and give me some vague, half-arsed explanation? You know. Like usual."

Jim blinked before taking a deep breath. "Well, I _could_ tell you," he said, fingers sliding together. His grin was devious. "But would you _want_ to know?"

Sebastian sized him up. Corset, garter belt, stockings, shoes and all. One corner of his frown twitched. "... So where do my services come into play?" He quickly flew up a hand. "And if you've got another corset and some skirt packin' in your linens, _no_. You can go ahead and put a bullet through my brain for disobedience, but _no_."

Jim giggled. "No, no! Nothing as drastic as that," he assured. "But I will need your help in the clothing department." Sebastian cocked a brow. The smaller man stood, his heels clicking against the floor. He turned his back to Sebastian, gestured to all the loose lace ribbons. "I need you to tie me up."

Sebastian blinked. He stared at those ribbons, then Jim's hands, then Jim's face. The man looking at him over his shoulder, hopeful and waiting. Expecting. He took another few seconds to stare at the strings before scratching at his neck. "... You're joking." That was all he could manage because. Seriously.

Jim pursed his lips. "Do I look like I'm joking?" He jut out a hip, the ribbons swaying.

"You called me all the way here just so I could help you play dress up?"

"For a very, very just and vital cause, my friend."

Sebastian was stuck between fury and fear. "Why can't you... do this yourself?"

"I'm sorry my arms don't have the ability to stretch and expand, you idiot," Jim snapped. He huffed and turned, puffing out chest. The top half of his torso, peeking over the corset, all pale skin and nipples and Sebastian placed a hand over his mouth, pretended he was rubbing something away and looked intensely at his boss. "I would not have anyone else do this for me," Jim added, and it sounded almost touching. Except there was a wicked gleam in his eye. "Well, you know, I could, but I'd have to kill them after and then you'd have to come back and clean up the body." He reached out and took his friend by the arm, squeezing it. "Is that what you want, Sebastian? Is it?"

Sebastian glowered. "That," he paused, "that Adler woman put you up to this?"

Jim scoffed, looking scandalized. "I don't need her beauty tips and advice, thank you. In fact." He ran his hands down the slimming corset and purred. "I pull this look off much better, don't you agree?"

Sebastian winced. What was that strange tingling sensation suddenly in his - oh, yes. Right. That. He cleared his throat for the umpteenth time then gave a big sigh. "Bloody Hell, _fine_!" Jim looked triumphant, smiling ear to ear. "Just... Hurry it up!"

And the smaller man clapped and giggled and spun around. "All right," he said, voice firm. He braced his hands against the vanity piece, bent forward, ass sticking out to Sebastian. A commanding, stern expression on his face reflected in the mirror. " _Do it_. Tie me up."

Sebastian suddenly felt like all but one of his muscles turned to jello. He debated running to the door, throwing his two weeks' notice after him. But, Jim was giving him _that look_ , the one Sebastian could not resist, lest he probably lose an eye. Swallowing the huge coal-lump in his throat, he walked slowly toward the smaller man. His feet felt as if they were fitted with cement shoes, and it took some effort to finally get behind Jim. So close, his groin inches from that presented as--aahhh no, focus on the task at hand.

"You're a quick learner," Jim said, "you should figure it out. Hop to it!"

Sebastian took the lace tendrils in his fingers. They felt so good against his calloused skin. He was pretty sure Jim's body was the same soft textuuu _uuure_ back to the task at hand. He looked the ribbons and loopholes over, and his mind put two and two together, judging by the formation of the few lines Jim had managed to tie on his own. He went to work, starting slow, as if he were preforming delicate brain surgery.

"I want it _tight_ ," Jim ordered, emphasizing the last word, "very, very _tight_."

"Tight," Sebastian rasped, "right."

Jim stared at his face in the mirror. "You know, back in the days of yore, men also wore corsets. The wasp-figure was very popular. Everyone wanted to be a mutated hourglass." His eyes flicked up; saw the slight tremor in Sebastian's hands. He couldn't help but grin a wicked little thing, and pushed back, until his ass was against Sebastian's and eee-yup. He concealed his chortles, pretended he was oblivious. "Now, things are a bit different. The original purposes of the corset have dramatically changed, in some ways."

Sebastian was only registering some of what Jim was saying. Pretending his boss's rear wasn't pressed against his erection, just continued working on tying up the ribbons. "Now the corset is not only just for fashion, but, highly sexualized," he bumped back, passing it off as an accident, and Sebastian winced, paused, "just as well. Especially in the more kinkier circles." He snickered lowly.

Sebastian stepped back, adding space between them again. He felt sweat bead at his forehead. "You going to some S&M club, are you?" he tried to joke but it came off weak. Focus on the ribbons, focus on the ribbons, he was half way there.

"Not tonight, no. Though maybe another time," Jim said and quickly added, more business-like, "all right, now _really_ tighten them up. Throttle me if you have to."

Sebastian half-nodded. At the next set of ribbons, he yanked them hard and Jim gave a small gasp. Sebastian felt his heart skip; he looked to Jim's face in the mirror, and it had calmed. "Good, yes," Jim murmured. Sebastian tied another, just as tight, and this time saw the knit in the man's brows, his lips pulled back to show corners of grit teeth. "Come on, don't daddle," he snorted and swished a hand.

"Sorry."

With each new tie and strain, Jim's noises grew louder. Soft whimpers became grunts and strained gasps, and once he thrust forward, stomach hitting the desk. His back arching, shoulders flexing, displayed so beautifully for Sebastian whooo _ooo_ really should pay attention to his work. He wrapped two ribbons around his knuckles once, bit his lip, pulled like horse reins and the sound Jim made was practically _obscene_. Sebastian's breath hitched, and he saw the red flush spread like a butterfly across Jim's face, the lust that joined the pain in his dark eyes.

Just one more, one more... Sebastian sucked in air, yanked. Jim nearly fell forward and against the desk as the knot was tied. With everything done, Sebastian stepped back, rock hard and mind scrambled.

Jim took a moment to breathe. Placed a hand to his chest; inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Once he adjusted to the constriction, he stood, and the leather squeaked as it flexed and rolled with his body movements. He then turned, the blush fading from his face, but the twinkle still in his eyes. "Wonderful job," he congratulated, "it feels perfect. I'm very proud of you..."

Sebastian went to thank him before his eyes fell south and he kept silent. Jim blinked then looked down. "Well," he said, chuckling at his erection bulging against the leather belt, "I guess you were a bit _too_ good."

"You, uh, hmm." Sebastian cleared his throat nearly raw. Gestured quickly to... that. "Going to...?"

"I should," Jim said and scowled, "or it's going to hurt like the dickens." He laughed at the last word.

Sebastian's mind reeled. "Well, maybe go to the bathroom and--"

"Are you giving me instructions to wank, Sebastian?"

Sebastian's eyes bulged. "N-No! No, I'm just--"

"God, wanking is so utterly boring," Jim sighed and shook his head. He appeared disappointed. "Especially when there's an extra pair of hands around. Or, you know, something better, to spice things up."

"I..." Oh, Sebastian knew what he was getting at. Or something. He wasn't sure anymore. "... You want..." An eyebrow climbed so high, nearly disappeared beneath loose hanging brows. "... But, you have to leave soon, don't you? And with you all dressed up..."

"We don't have to make a big mess, you know, you git," Jim snorted. He turned, opened a dresser shelf; second later, turned back and threw a wrapped condom at his baffled friend. It bounced in Sebastian's hands until he got a firm hold. Jim flicked a finger at it. "I've got me fifteen minutes before I have to be out the door, so let's try to get this done by ten." His arms went akimbo. "I've still got to do my make-up."

"Make-up...?"

Sebastian grunted when Jim suddenly swept forward, took his shirt collar and yanked him down until they were face to face. "Do you want to fuck me, or not?" Jim demanded, more annoyed than turned on. "Because if no, leave. If yes." He grabbed his friend's hand holding the condom. "Put the damn thing on and get to it."

Sebastian opened his mouth. His face fell neutral, and then, a true soldier's hard gaze. "Yes, sir," he snapped. 

As soon as he opened the condom, Jim tossed him a small tube of lotion. "It'll work," he said. Sebastian stalled putting on the condom as he watched Jim neatly unlock his suspenders. He had never thought the idea of a guy doing this so hot, but my _God_. Jim tugged down the belt, shimmied a little, until they pooled around his knees. He turned to the vanity set, positioned himself just like before, displaying the simple but intricate ribbon design on the back of his corset. "Nine minutes, Moran."

"Shite!" Sebastian cursed, and it felt as if all his knowledge and skills on the matter of sex had flown out the window. "You're making this bloody har-- Don't you laugh, you bastard!"

"The clock is tiii~iicking, Mor--"

Sebastian finally had his comeback. Before Jim could finish, Sebastian was flush against him, two coated fingers hooking up inside the smaller man's ass. Jim cursed and bit hard into his bottom lip. The fingers continued to probe and work him apart; his legs spread, wider by inches, burying thick stiletto heels into the carpet. Muscles tightening and closing, it had only just begun and yet Jim felt boneless. "Quick enough?" Sebastian sneered into the shell of an ear, and chortled at Jim's small whimper.

The prep was not perfect but sufficient - after all, the clocking was tiii~iicking - and Sebastian regretted the short time frame he had severely cutting down slow enjoyment.

Removing his fingers, he quickly pushed himself inside, nearly full and Jim gave a low snarl. Did not complain, however. His glossed, manicured nails dug into the fine wood of the vanity center, about ready to claw into it. Sebastian wrapped one arm around the almost petite waist, the second sliding up the leather corset until he found a nipple, near mindlessly pinching and rolling it between his fingers. Jim groaned with appreciation, his back relaxing and almost melting into a curl forward.

Sebastian dropped his forehead to Jim's shoulder. Felt the sweat run down his face in thin streams. He breathed hot air against tingling skin, could smell the leather of the corset just below his nose. His hips bucking, slamming into Jim, ripping more and more cries and sensual noises from his smaller frame. The arm around his waist dropped, hand fumbling until fingers wrapped around Jim's cock, began pumping. Jim snapped his hips against the vanity center, sending make-up rolling onto the floor, nearly shrieking with joy. A large, wet smile on his face, eyes squeezed shut and lashes fluttering.

Time was running out. Sebastian grew more and more anxious, overworking himself. He wanted to go slower, take his time. Really feel the leather and enjoy it under his skin and wandering fingers. He opened one eye, saw himself in the mirror; Jim's face, too. All contorted in ecstasy with just the right amount of pain. He plunged forward a bit too hard, and Jim gasped and God, why did he only have a few minutes? Damn damn damn.

It was a little over the deadline before Sebastian finally came. He fell stiff and held onto Jim's pliant body, feeling the condom tighten around him as he climaxed. Jim slapped his arm to stop him from bathing in the afterglow, forcing him to finish his boss off his with hand. The few jerks were worth the scene, and Sebastian nearly chewed up one of the ribbons. Jim slammed a hand against the foggy mirror, tilted it back and with one small cry, finally came.

The mess was mostly Sebastian's trouble, and once Jim had finally settled to breathe and relax against the desk, he ordered him out and off to clean up. Sebastian reluctantly pulled out, watched as Jim's legs nearly collapsed beneath him. He caught himself, however, and with a tiny hiss, slowly sat back on his stool. It hurt a bit, and his ass was throbbing, cheeks aflame and red from the smacking force. Sebastian couldn't find it in his heart to feel sorry.

When he returned, cleaned up and condom tossed away, Jim seemed to have wiped himself up a bit. It smelled less of sex now as it did a very potent perfume. He watched in silent fascination as Jim quickly applied a simple layer of make-up - some concealer, a little eye shadow and then a soft shade of red for his lips. The way that stick slid smoothly over those lips, each nuance and curve, his mouth open slightly and still breathing a little haggardly - "Out of the gutter with you," Jim chided, and snapped the lid back on the tube.

After making sure his make-up looked relatively decent, he stood. Reached out a hand; Sebastian took it, helped him to regain his balance. The pain was still there, but it would pass soon. "Fetch me those, will you?" Jim gestured to the sofa. A pair of red lace panties strung over a cushion.

"I thought it wouldn't get any weirder."

Nonetheless, Sebastian retrieved the panties, offered them-- "No," Jim said and pushed his hand back. He pointed down; the belt had been pulled up, but the suspenders loose. "Put them on, and fix my stockings." He looked sweet and innocent. "Please, dearheart?"

Sebastian shivered. What was it with this insufferable little Irishman and his damn - agh, whatever. Sebastian slowly fell to one knee, lifted Jim's right foot. Jim then pressed it against his shoulder, heel piercing his chest.

"Suspenders first."

Sebastian frowned but... Carefully, he gathered the little suspenders, slipping the stockings back up and between them, locked into place. His hands rested on Jim's leg, slowly slid down, and oh, it was so _wonderful_ , the skin and lace gliding against his skin, stopping at his foot again. With the suspenders taken care of, Jim stepped into the open and spread underwear. However, it was Sebastian who pulled them up, ever so slowly, until they covered his belt, and he was face to face with Jim's crotch and-- time was up.

"Bless you!" Jim swooned and patted Sebastian's head like a puppy. He stepped back, adjusted the underwear. Quickly assessed himself in the mirror. "But it is now time for daddy to go to work!" He nearly strut across the room, plucking a thick mink coat from the rack. He pulled it on, wrapped it around him, until he was nearly covered in the thick black fur, hiding what he wore beneath. "I won't be needing your services for the rest of the night. You can go on home." He gathered up a small leather wallet, slipped on some jewelry - a ruby ring, a carnelian gemstone necklace, clip-on garnet earrings. "I'll text you if I need anything."

Sebastian watched as Jim headed for the door. The coat hid most of his body, bundled thick around his neck, save those stilettos. Before Jim went to leave, he snapped his fingers and gave a small "oh!" before dashing to his bedroom. Returned a minute later fussing with a wig of long, thick, straight black hair. He turned to Sebastian, adjusting his crooked fringe. "Too-da-loo, _mon cher_ ," he purred and blew his friend a kiss coupled with a wink.

Sebastian watched him go, a wagging coat of fur; the door shut and locked. He was left alone. He did nothing, not for an entire, solid minute, but stand at the door. The clock across the room ticked. Sebastian turned mechanically toward the liquor cabinet.

\---

Sebastian knew he should have left right after Jim. Instead, however, he helped himself to most of his boss's rum and then found himself sitting on the sofa. He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep, but when he woke, it was to the door slamming. Sebastian sat upright, the bottle still in one hand; fortunately, cap on. If he ruined the sofa, he was a goner. Instinctively, he checked his watch - it was about midnight now; nearly three hours since he came over to deliver some milk, help tie up his boss's corset then fuck him.

Sebastian then looked to the door and what he saw had him quickly gathering to his feet. Jim opened his coat, let it fall carelessly to the ground. Once it hit, a small handgun fell out. One of his stockings was ripped, a hole down along his calf, the suspender missing. A bruise across his jawline blossoming a pale violet; his lipstick was mostly gone, or smeared across his cheek. Staining the front of his corset was dried blood.

"What--what happened?"

Jim frowned. "... I." He looked down. Hands held to his chest. "I ruined my corset. It was one of a kind, you know. I loved it so much."

Sebastian scowled. "What _happened_?"

"Exactly what I had planned," Jim answered. He gave a big, melancholic sigh. "Well, except for getting dirty. This blood will never come out!" He angrily swept hands over the corset.

Sebastian wanted to ask what exactly Jim had planned that lead to this, but remembered - best not to ask. He really didn't want to know. The only thing that concerned him was Jim's health. He approached the smaller man, gently took him by the chin. Jim tilted his head back, all puppy dog eyes, allowing Sebastian to examine his bruise. "Nice shiner," he chortled. He eyed his boss. "Anything else?"

"No. Just this. Lucky shot, the twit," Jim grumbled, touching his bruise. He grinned maliciously in a quick flash. "But I had the luckier shot, hmmhmm~."

"Well, glad to see... You had fun?"

"It was fun! But..." The sparkle in Jim's eyes dimmed. He groaned and shuffled forward, dropped the side of his head against Sebastian's chest. "My corset is ruined, Sebastian! Ruined! This is a tragedy. Truly a great loss of our time."

Sebastian sighed. "Yes." He placed a hand on the back of Jim's neck, then rested his cheek to the top of his head. He feigned a look of bitterness. "But we will avenge it. The beautiful soul."

Jim snickered. "You sweet talker." One arm snaked around Sebastian's waist.

"Shouldn't we get you cleaned up first?" Sebastian suggested. Not that he was declining any... offers, however.

"I just want to lay down. Just for a few minutes," Jim replied. He kept his hold firm. "I look like a used up whore, might as well resume the roll another five or so--"

"Did you sleep with... whoever you went and... whatever you did with them?" Sebastian demanded. He had not noticed the strange edge in his voice.

Jim regarded him with a look of surprise. "Of course not!" He almost wanted to smack the idiot. "I said I _look_ like a used up whore, not _feel_ like one. God sakes, you are so daft sometimes."

Sebastian felt the sudden tension in his chest relax. "You're right," he said and drew Jim's head back against his chest, "you would charge too expensively to be a whore."

"Ha! Bloody well, I would."

Arm and arm, the two retired to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Jim didn't even bother to take off his shoes, and Sebastian knew he'd later bitch and moan about being dirty in bed and all that. Yet, at the moment, he didn't really care. So they laid side by side, Jim animatedly explaining the details of his bloody, corset-ruining confrontation and Sebastian listening intently with a bemused smile.

END

 


End file.
